Uncertainty
by Inwenalas
Summary: Sometimes one's better off not knowing the truth. Don fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Uncertainty**

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A/N: I know where I'm going with this fic, but I haven't written a lot. I'll try to update soon though. Reviews are appreciated. :)

Unbeta'd for now, I might've missed some typos. I'll be re-editing this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or any of the characters. I'd love to, but I don't.

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Light attacked Don's senses, made its way to his head and bore through his skull. Before he could become aware of his surroundings, his eyes needed to adjust to the brightness. Moving didn't feel like a good idea, but he knew he had to try if he wanted to find out what had happened. It seemed like an eternity later but he'd finally managed to open his eyes. His head felt numb, his limbs uncooperative, but he was moving. He ignored the different aches. His body screamed for attention, attention he didn't have time for. He reminded himself he needed to move. _Now_.

Getting on his feet was easier said than done. He guessed it was a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, pushing him to his feet. He could ignore the dizziness and his ribs screaming for attention. He could even ignore the shoulder pain his body kept warning him about. He was a mess, he knew as much. The only thing which really bothered him was his right side. He quickly moved his right hand to the spot and found a wet bandage there. His hand came back bloodied. It wasn't a good sign, but he wasn't entirely surprised. He went back to ignoring his body, for now.

Much to Don's surprise the door was unlocked. Whoever had disarmed him and brought him to this room, hadn't bothered locking him in. He didn't remember who was responsible, but he vowed he'd find out. The door led to an empty corridor. He followed the square tiles to another door and silently opened it. He was careful, he needed to be able to use the element of surprise if someone was still inside the seemingly abandoned building. He found a small storage room, but what he didn't expect was his gun, phone and an envelope with his name on it. He quickly shoved the letter inside his jacket pocket and grabbed his sidearm. Given the situation he'd have to read it later. He just hoped it would make sense and shed some light on the dark situation he found himself in. In one fluent movement he tucked his phone away as well.

Before making an extremely important call, he quickly searched the rest of the building. He kept finding more rooms, their emptiness staring back at him. _He was on his own_. The exit was easy enough to find, it led straight to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. There was no way he'd make it very far. Not like this, _not on his own. _

Don grabbed his phone and he knew they'd left it in the storage room so he'd survive. What he didn't know was why. Why had these people taken him, only to set him free after the act, let him live to tell people about it. It was a simple equation, one he knew the answer to, to some extent. It wasn't mercy or compassion. It had to be something else, a reason which went beyond his imagination for the time being. _He couldn't think clearly_.

He considered calling his family, he figured they were worried sick. Unfortunately calling _them_ wasn't the logical course of action. He dialed David's number instead.

"Sinclair." He could hear doubt in David's voice, as if the man didn't believe he was really on the other side of the line.

"David, I need you to trace this call."

He could hear his second-in-command moving and giving orders. David was doing exactly what he'd just told him to do.

"Are you in danger?"

"Don't think so. They left."

"Are you hurt?"

"Yeah," he admitted.

"I'm calling an ambulance. We'll be there as soon as possible, hang in there. How bad is it?"

David understood he wouldn't really know the real damage until he arrived at the scene, but he needed to ask anyway.

"Don't… really know. I'm good… I think."

David didn't believe a word his boss was saying, he didn't miss the 'for now' in between Don's words.

"Don?"

When he didn't get a response he tried again, "Don?"

"Yeah."

"Try to stay awake. It won't be long."

"Still 'ere."

"Good. Tell me what happened." The least he could do was try to keep his boss awake long enough for the ambulance to get there.

Don leaned against the wall behind him and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, resting his head against the cold tiles behind him.

"What happened?" David repeated.

"I… don't remember.

Don closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

"Stay with me man, I'm not explaining this to your dad and Charlie.

He didn't know how long it really took for the sound of the sirens to reach his ears, but it felt like an eternity. He could let go now. They'd found him. David was still talking to him, ordering him to stay awake, keep his eyes open. Truth was, he'd obeyed the man's orders long enough. It was time to sleep now. He gave in to the bliss of knowing nothing.

TBC

PS: Once again, I apologize for any annoying typos.

Tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Uncertainty**

Part two

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A/N: I'm so sorry this took me forever. The last two weeks weren't exactly brilliant for me. Let's keep it at that and continue this fic? Oh and thank you so much for your support. I loved every single review and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this fic. Thank you. PS: Still unbeta'd. Annoying typos are mine, unfortunately.

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or any of the characters. I'd love to, but I don't.

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"What happened?"

Explaining horrible things to family members was always difficult. It didn't get better with time. It wasn't something an FBI agent got used to doing. David knew that would mean giving up a part of his humanity. They were all human, _vulnerable_ even. Being an FBI agent didn't make it any easier.

"We don't know. Don didn't say much, he told me he didn't remember."

David recognized the look on Alan's face.

"Don's going to be okay. We need to trust him. He's going to fight this."

"I know," Alan admitted, "_I know_." He repeated the words to comfort himself. He couldn't help it, it was the only thing keeping him going.

David looked at his boss's brother. The younger man was sitting down, forehead leaning on his hand palm. Amita was right beside him, her right hand on Charlie's thigh.

"Robin?" David asked Alan.

"We can't reach her."

"I'll try again," Amita offered. She patted Charlie's thigh once more before digging out her cell phone.

"David?" That was Colby. David turned around and faced his colleague. Not only did he hear the urgency in Colby's voice, he could also see it in his eyes.

"I'll be right back," he told Alan.

"What's wrong?"

On a day like this one, he didn't want to be the boss.

"I don't know yet. You'll know as soon as I know." He could give the older man that much.

"Thank you."

Alan was worried out of his mind, but he still had the decency to recognize the effort David and the rest of the team were putting into this.

David followed Colby to a room where Nikki and Liz were still going through some of Don's stuff. What got his attention was the opened envelope and the typed letter on the table.

"I don't want to read it, do I?"

"It's pretty disturbing," Nikki stated matter-of-factly.

David read the letter anyway.

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Don didn't know what brought him back to the land of the living this time. If he could've held expectations while he was unconscious, he wouldn't have expected to return. He woke up confused and alone, but on a soft bed. He remembered waking up a couple of times, but he couldn't recollect seeing his dad or Charlie. He didn't remember saying anything or doing anything, but he knew he'd opened his eyes at one point, or maybe two.

He looked through the glass on his right. A nurse looked up from the computer at the nurse's station and gave him a smile. He couldn't help but wonder if he was supposed to recognize her face. His focus went back to the ceiling when she stopped working and left his line of sight.

Don didn't feel much of anything, his body felt numb but he tried to move anyway. He panicked a little when his limbs didn't move the way he wanted them to. Deep down he knew meds were to blame for their uncooperative behavior, but that didn't change the unnatural feeling, the complete lack of control.

He wanted to let sleep take over, but he managed to stay awake until the doctor entered and told him they'd be taking him into surgery soon. His day couldn't get any better.

His body kept ordering him to doze off and he could no longer ignore its persistent nagging. His dad and brother were the last people on his mind before he finally gave in.

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David guided the Eppes and Amita to a room where they could speak privately. It was Amita who spoke first, subconsciously mirroring Alan's previous words.

"What's wrong?"

They could choose to ignore it, but they all knew something was terribly wrong.

"We found a letter. Don had it on him when we found him."

"Does it tell us who's responsible?" Amita whispered. She wasn't fully aware she'd lowered her voice.

"It doesn't. Maybe you should sit down," David replied.

Alan thought his legs were going to collapse. He moved his hands behind him and searched for the chair he knew was there somewhere. When he found it he resisted his body's natural impulse to fall down.

All three of them let David explain the content of the letter, allowed his words to sink in.

Charlie was the first to respond. "Let me analyze the letter," he offered.

"Charlie, I don't know if that's a –"

"I didn't say it was a good idea. I…_ need _to do this."

_Please let me._

"I can help."

Charlie grabbed Amita's hand and squeezed it gratefully.

"Any help is welcome," David admitted.

Charlie threw a quick glance at his dad, who nodded in return. "I'll call as soon as I know more."

A knock on the door interrupted their thoughts and Alan immediately hoped it was the doctor with an update, with good news.

When he saw Robin's face he couldn't be entirely disappointed. It wasn't the good news he was hoping for but he was happy she'd arrived. He wouldn't be waiting alone, they could support each other.

"I'll tell her," Alan said.

"Tell me what? Is Don okay?"

Alan took the lead by grabbing Robin's arm and guiding her to a chair.

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'_I'm leaving you a little something to remember me by.'_

Charlie didn't decide if those were the words disturbing him the most. He still didn't know if the writer meant scars he'd left on his brother's body, or what scared him even more, something else entirely. At the same time doctors were trying to figure it out. There was something sinister about the letter, something which told him there was more to it than visible on the surface.

'_Don't try to find me. You can't.'_

He'd do everything in his power to prove this person wrong.

Charlie didn't want to continue reading the letter, but if this was the way he could help his brother, he'd do it even if it hurt him.

Amita was his rock of support. Just her presence helped him look past the obscure words.

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"Don Eppes?"

Robin shot up at the mention of her boyfriend's name. Alan wasn't far behind.

"I'm doctor Meyer, Don's attending physician."

"How is he?" Alan barely gave the man time to introduce himself. He appreciated the man's care for his son, but the need to know specifics overtook rationality.

The doctor smiled reassuringly and nodded. The man understood, he'd dealt with family members plenty of times. He'd been on both sides.

"Don is doing remarkably well. He has quite a recovery ahead of him, but he's doing great all things considered. What worries me the most is the knife wound on the right side of his chest."

Alan's eyes widened at that.

Doctor Meyer nodded, sympathy in his eyes. "I've seen the scar on the left. This wound isn't as deep and won't scar as much."

Robin nodded in reply and waited for him to continue. She could feel Alan grabbing her hand and squeezing it in support. She immediately returned the squeeze.

"We surgically repaired the damage and removed…"

"Removed?" Robin asked.

"This is what agent … Sinclair?" he continued when he got two nods, "what agent Sinclair was worried about. We found a bullet."

Alan didn't bother masking the gasp escaping his lips.

"We managed to remove it safely. The damage is minimal. It seems like someone _placed_ it inside, via the knife wound."

"What else?" Robin pried. Maybe it was the attorney in her surfacing.

"Cracked collarbone, three broken ribs and a mild concussion. Nothing that won't heal with time." Doctor Meyer was an optimist, Alan and Robin had to give the man that at least.

"Can we see him?" Robin almost interrupted him for a second time. She didn't mean to be impolite, but circumstances had a way of making her a little pushy.

The doctor nodded. "Follow me."

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Robin softly pressed her lips against Don's left sleep. She didn't want to move the oxygen mask, but she couldn't resist kissing him. He opened his eyes and she even got a big smile in return.

"Hey you," she said.

"'bin, dad." His voice was barely audible under the mask but they understood every word.

Don felt the warmth of his father's hand. He avoided using the French words _déjà-vu_. His father wouldn't have deemed it funny. The agent realized he needed his father's touch and presence just as much. He didn't use any words at all. Sometimes silence was just as good, maybe even better.

He jumped a little when he felt Robin's hand on his cheek. Apparently he'd closed his eyes again.

"Sorry," she immediately apologized.

When did he get jumpy like this? "Don't be. Don't wanna sleep yet."

His right shoulder protested when he tried to reach for her hand, another reminder of what had happened. If only he knew what that was exactly.

She stopped his movements and brought her own hand to his instead.

"We were worried." It was the obvious thing to say, but she still needed to say it, express her feelings. The entire way to the hospital she'd been worried sick. _Again_.

"Sorry. What happened?" he asked the million dollar question.

"We were all hoping you'd remember," Alan informed his son.

The younger Eppes furrowed his brow. "I… don't."

Alan felt sorry for answering Don's question. His son didn't need any of this right now.

"Chuck?"

He could've hugged his son for changing the subject.

"Charlie and Amita are helping David and the rest of your team. They'll find whoever did this. You just concentrate on getting better, Donnie."

"Hmm…"

Alan didn't know how they'd done it, but they'd avoided the letter subject… for now anyway.

"Sleeping like a baby," Alan whispered a few minutes later.

"Not a baby," Don mumbled in reply.

"Almost," Robin whispered back, she couldn't hide the smile on her face.

Alan realized the smile had nothing to do with the situation. His future daughter-in-law was relieved beyond words.

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"_Don."_

"_Mom?"_

_He couldn't see her, but that was definitely her voice. She was calling his name. She needed him._

"_Mom?" he repeated._

"_Be careful, Don."_

_She was gone. Just like that. She didn't need _him_, he felt like he needed her. _

_He felt a sudden sharp pain in his belly, like someone had just stabbed him. _

"Agent Eppes?"

_He couldn't breathe._

"I need you to calm down and breathe."

He felt pressure on his left shoulder. Someone was trying to keep him still.

He opened his eyes as soon as the words registered, they fell on her name tag, Margaret. One hell of a coincidence.

The doctor was standing in his room as well.

He recognized these people, they weren't part of a nightmare he couldn't get out of.

He'd seen the man before, his doctor. He'd seen him before surgery and a few times more after. The doctor had explained his injuries. He'd spoken to his family. Don was sure the man had mentioned his name, but couldn't recall it.

The nurse had been a frequent 'visitor' as well and he'd also seen a second nurse. Things were starting to become a little clearer.

He still couldn't remember what had landed him here, which frustrated him to no end. He caught himself hoping the meds were to blame for that.

"Agent Eppes?"

At least he wasn't having another panic attack.

"Don," he clarified.

She gave him a genuine smile.

"You're going to be fine," the doctor repeated the words he'd missed before, "just keep breathing."

Don wasn't sure if he believed them.

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"We're nowhere."

David looked up at that and found Colby leaning against his desk.

"We're not supposed to find anything," Colby continued.

"Charlie's still working on that letter," David pointed out. Colby wasn't the only one who needed to be reminded of that. He caught himself doubting a possible positive outcome. He didn't want his mind to go there, but he couldn't stop it.

"Speak of the devil."

David got up and met the math professor halfway. "Any luck?"

Charlie eyed him for a moment. He wouldn't call his calculated results luck, but he let it slide. They were all tired and what truly mattered was finding whoever had put his brother in hospital.

"Not yet. I need more time," Charlie admitted, "Amita's helping me out at the moment."

Normally he'd explain how looking for certain patterns would help them solve the case. This time he doubted his skills just like he'd doubted them before. Recent history had a way of happening again.

"I'm going…"

David nodded before Charlie could finish his sentence. The younger man needed to see his brother, know he was still alive. Talk to him if possible.

He wanted this thing to work. "Amita's going to call me as soon as the analysis…"

David grabbed Charlie's shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. Go see Don."

"Thank you," Charlie added. He didn't bother saying more, he went straight for the elevator.

Don's family kept thanking him for the most logical things. It just reminded him he needed to keep going and find these bastards.

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"You can't go in there, sir."

Charlie froze.

"I'm going to need some ID."

_An agent __in civilian clothing?_

"Uh," he mumbled while he managed to dig his ID out of his coat pocket, "here."

The agent took his time to study the picture and information. "You're allowed to go in," he finally said.

Charlie eyed the man suspiciously. _No, really? It's only my _brother_ in there. _He kept the snappy thoughts to himself and entered his brother's room. No need to waste more time.

Don's bed was raised slightly to help him breathe. The horrific oxygen mask his father had warned him about on the phone seemed to be gone and his brother looked pale, but okay,_ alive_.

Robin was asleep on the left side of the bed, her hand still on Don's thigh.

"Hey buddy," Don greeted him.

"Where's dad?" the younger brother whispered.

"Cafeteria. He wasn't very happy when they kicked him out last night."

"How did Robin take that?"

"A lot better."

Don grew a little distant all of a sudden.

"You okay?"

"I think I'm starting to remember things," he informed his brother.

TBC

Reviews are welcome, as always. I'll try to post the next chapter a little faster (if life lets me).


	3. Chapter 3

**Uncertainty**

Part three

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A/N: Oh life. Anyway, here's chapter three. It's a bit shorter than last one, but this chapter felt complete. Still unbeta'd. Annoying typos are mine, unfortunately.

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or any of the characters. I'd love to, but I don't.

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He didn't want to kick his family out of the room. Seeing Robin leave his side was just as painful. Don was sure they'd find out later, but for now he could keep them away from what was bothering him, some sort of awful truth. It was all a bad dream. It had to be.

"I think three of them, masked and armed."

David realized that this was the best description he was going to get.

"Do you have any idea who could be behind this?"

A futile question, but David asked it anyway, he needed to know every detail. _Anything _could help, lead them to the right location. He'd told himself not to despair, to continue without hesitating, but at this point he was grasping at straws. He'd take any evidence.

"I think you know more than I do right now," Don admitted.

"Okay, back to the start. Charlie told me you're remembering things. You were going home."

"I'd parked my car." Don rubbed his eyes with his left hand palm. Remembering particular events turned out to be a lot harder than he'd thought. It felt like his brain couldn't handle the information. Flashes were easy, they didn't hurt his brain as much.

David remained silent.

"Two men came up behind me."

David knew they'd taken him on the parking lot. Don had never reached his home.

"I could hear them before they were right behind me, so I reached for my gun and turned around."

Don closed his eyes and tried to remember what they looked like. "My height. One slightly taller, the other shorter."

For a moment he hated himself for not remembering important specifics, anything they could actually use. Don remembered the impact next, something hard hitting the back of his head.

"A third guy hit me," with his left hand he indicated the spot on his head.

He blamed himself for not paying enough attention. He should've seen it coming, should've tried to do more to stop it.

He thought he'd heard the sound of his gun hitting the pavement, but he couldn't be sure. Don had lost consciousness not long after that.

"I fell. That's all I remember. Then I woke up in that abandoned building, where I found a storage room with my gun, cell phone and…" he stopped for a moment. He'd forgotten about the letter.

"I want to read it, David."

"I'll see what I can do."

In all honesty David didn't want his boss to read it. Whoever had written it didn't deserve the pleasure of Don reading it.

"Not good enough. You know I won't take no for an answer."

"We're still working on it."

The 'we' sounded suspicious, Don thought. It was only when realization hit him full force he continued.

"You mean Charlie. He read it?" Don didn't even bother hiding the disbelief in his eyes.

David wondered where their conversation had taken a wrong turn.

"He insisted he wanted to help."

"And you let him?" Don chose for a mix between anger and disappointment.

"He only wanted to help and we were nowhere," David explained in Charlie's and his own defence.

"And where are we now?"

It was a rhetorical question, David didn't bother replying.

If his ribs weren't bothering him as much he would've gotten out of bed in search for the letter himself. The need to know what it said just kept growing.

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Charlie wondered why the coffee machine hated him. Not only had it swallowed his money, it had also managed to almost burn his right hand by spilling boiling water. It was only when he looked up he noticed the _out of order_ sign.

_Just my luck. _

"Charlie Eppes?"

The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place it. He turned around and was surprised to find a face he knew all too well. Charlie hadn't seen the man a lot in person but he knew him alright.

"Doctor Bradford?"

Of all the people he'd expected to see that day, he hadn't expected Don's old psychiatrist.

The man didn't beat around the bush. "How's Don?"

"How did you…" Charlie trailed off. The man was a trained psychiatrist and it wasn't exactly hard to figure out.

"Know? I didn't, but I think I just passed his room. The crowd outside gave it away. I would've said hi, but I didn't want to interrupt. I'm visiting a relative."

Charlie could definitely imagine it was getting crowded out there.

"Physically or emotionally?" Charlie threw a question of his own back.

"How about both?"

"Physically better. Emotionally I have no idea. I'm his brother I should probably know, but honestly? I don't have a clue."

"I could talk to him after my visit today or tomorrow," Bradford offered.

"Don might kill me for saying this, but I think he could use a good talk. He's been … distant."

Bradford nodded. "I'd be happy to help."

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He'd done it. David had brought the letter to the hospital. Now he just needed to enter Don's room and give it to him, let him read the words. It wasn't a good idea, but he could no longer deny the possible advantages. Maybe it would jog Don's memory and maybe he'd remember something important. Maybe not. Perhaps Don would notice something they just couldn't see, a possible link to his fugitive recovery days? Not only was it just a matter of time before Don got his hands on the letter, it was also David's duty to show it to his boss if he wanted to do his job properly.

It was late, after visiting hours when David entered Don's room. He'd told one of the nurses and the agent at Don's door that he would leave as fast as he'd come in.

David could see his boss was about to give in to more much needed sleep so he quickly stepped closer to the bed and showed Don the letter.

"I'm going downstairs for a while, I'll be back in half an hour," David said.

It was only logical David needed his evidence back, but there was something else. Don and David agreed on one thing, they needed to keep Alan as far away from the letter as possible. The older man had a pretty good idea of the content, but he didn't need to read the specifics. The situation was already painful enough for him.

In a way he'd expected a sarcastic start, a cruel way of addressing him.

_Agent Eppes,_

_We finally meet.__ I'm sure you understand the necessity of these circumstances. I wouldn't want you to see my face, not yet. As much as I would like to look straight into your eyes, I will have to wait. I'm a patient man. I'm also sure that you're confused at this point. I'm just as sure about that as I'm sure about the fact_ that_ you're reading this letter even though people around you warned you, tried to stop you. This is who you are, a stubborn fool and you will always remain one. It's a simple observation._

_I'm leaving you a little something to remember me by. A small gift to let you know that I've held your life in my hands and that I will hold it again whenever I please. Why? The reasons don't matter at this point. What matters at this point, agent Eppes, is that you understand this. I want you to feel the same uncertainty in your life as I've felt. I chose not to kill you yet. It was a simple choice, one I don't regret when I consider my future plans._

_Don't try to find me. You can't. It's as simple as that. I'm careful, I wouldn't want a plan like this one to fail because of a mistake. I don't make mistakes. You should keep that in mind. _

_Enjoy your life while you still can. _

Don had seen the bullet. He knew they'd gone for a different approach of letting it enter his body and that he was still alive because of that. Reading the letter his thoughts were confirmed, they'd never intended to kill him in the first place. This was all a game, a way to get to him. The frustrating part was that he didn't have a clue who they were. It felt like he couldn't play the game, let alone win it.

In a way the letter was worse than he'd expected, but from a different perspective it was less painful to read. He couldn't explain it, maybe he could live with it now that he knew the exact words.

What really worried him was the only way the writer could get to him, really get to him. He needed to keep his family safe. When he told David not much later, Don listened intently to the man's reply.

"No threat has been made against them, but we are keeping an eye on them. We've got the situation under control."

Don wasn't sure he could believe David's words, he trusted his team to take care of everything, but he still worried. He couldn't let go of the feeling that he'd just put his family in danger.

"I'm worried, David."

David nodded in reply. "You're only accepting protection because you'll be staying at Charlie's place for a while," he noted.

"I can take care of myself."

Another nod. "I get it, it's them you're worried about. Don't be stupid, Don."

When Don didn't reply he repeated, "No direct threat."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't worry."

"You could let us take care of that."

Directly or indirectly, it didn't matter. It was his fault.

TBC

Your support is more than welcome, reviews kind of keep me going.


	4. Chapter 4

**Uncertainty**

Part four

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A/N: Once again, I blame my life for the delay. This is the final chapter. I should probably mention that I'm planning a sequel. That is, if there's interest. If most of you tell me I should just leave it at this then I probably won't write a sequel.

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It took him a while to remove the bandages covering his right side, but after some time he could finally see the real damage. With his left index finger he traced the stitches holding his skin together. It would definitely leave a mark, but the idea of having to deal with another scar didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. What bothered him was the complete lack of control, not knowing who'd done this.

Looking up he found his dad standing in the doorway, dumbfounded. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier. In one fluent motion he pulled the blanket higher and covered the row of stitches.

"Dad?"

His dad's complexion looked alarmingly pale. Don could feel his heart beating faster.

"Dad, sit down."

What happened next, passed in slow-motion. His dad was trembling and it didn't take long for the older man's legs to collapse.

"_Don?"_

His eyes shot open. It took him a while to adjust to the light filling his room. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes finally focused on the form sitting next to his bed, holding his left hand.

"Bad dream?" Robin asked.

"You could say that," he admitted.

"You really don't want to talk about it," she correctly interpreted his facial expression.

"Not really."

She looked at him and patted his hand before transmitting her thoughts to his mind.

That's why he loved Robin. He could almost hear what she was thinking, he could feel what she was feeling.

"I know." _Thank you_, he added in thoughts. _I know I can talk to you_.

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Don studied his dad's face. The older Eppes was leaning against the wall near the window completely lost in thought and his arms crossed, signalling that he didn't want to talk.

"Dad? You okay?" Don tried prying some information loose.

"I'm not the person I'm worried about." Alan sat down and ignored his son's questioning stare.

"Dad, look, I,…"

"It's okay, Donnie."

His dad wasn't the only person who didn't want to talk about it. Some things are better left unsaid and he didn't want to hurt his dad any more. It was easy to sense the uneasiness.

Dropping his head against the pillow behind him, Don changed the subject, "They're releasing me tomorrow morning."

"That's good news."

_Finally some good news_, Don read his father's expression.

After another uncomfortable silence, Alan decided to break it and lighten the mood a little. He didn't want to think about it and neither did his son. It was time to move on. At least he would try.

"I hope the poor man is allowed to go to the bathroom."

Don eyed his dad for an endless moment before blinking a couple of times in response. Realizing who his dad was referring to he couldn't help but smile. His dad had just cracked a joke and even while it wasn't exactly funny, he appreciated the attempt. He knew exactly what his dad was trying to do and it had nothing to do with the agent at his door and a lack of bathroom breaks.

"Thanks, dad."

"No, I'm serious. I've never seen him or that other agent leave that chair."

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He was alone when Bradford knocked on his door. His family had left him to his thoughts and would be back in the morning to pick him up. He'd be spending the next few days at Charlie's place, which still felt like his home too.

"Come in," he gave the visitor permission to enter the room.

Not only was Don surprised to see the therapist, he was also convinced this meeting was some kind of a set-up.

"House call?" he asked.

"I'd like to think I'm visiting a friend." Bradford motioned his head towards the chair and at Don's nod he lowered himself until he was sitting comfortably.

"You just happened to be here?" Don asked suspiciously.

"I was visiting a relative and then I bumped into your brother at the coffee machine. Spoke to agent Sinclair as well, over the phone. It's difficult to get in here, tight security. Agent Sinclair told me some of what happened."

"Then he knows more than I do."

"That's why I decided to drop by," Bradford admitted, "you're used to dealing with facts, but this time you're dealing with a complete lack of facts."

_No kidding_.

"If you're asking if the uncertainty is killing me, then the answer is probably yes." It was a completely honest reply, he owed the therapist that much.

"You have a choice here, Don. You can let this eat you up, or you can choose to fight it. This is exactly what they want."

Don allowed Bradford's words to sink in. He knew better than to lie to this man, or to hide his feelings. Bradford could see right through him, he'd done so before and he could do it again. Besides, it wouldn't help him one bit if he told the older man that he was okay, that he'd dealt with the emotions. Truth was that he hadn't. He was having problems putting everything behind him. He didn't know anymore if he could trust his own instincts.

"It's not easy," he acknowledged the man's words.

"And it won't be easy, but the fact that you're talking to me right now, tells me that you'll get there."

"Any tips?"

"You have a great family. You're always there for them, maybe it's a good time to let them be there for you. _Allow them to be there for you_," he stressed the last part, "Now's not the time to build walls."

"Fair enough."

Letting go was going to be the difficult part, but Bradford was right. He could let go, eventually. He had the right people he needed to help him get through _any_ situation. With their help, he could do it, but it would take time.

1234-1234

Charlie found his big brother sitting on the side of his hospital bed, his left hand fiddling with the sling supporting his right arm.

"Ready?" the younger man asked.

"You're going to drive?" Don asked, mock fear written all over his face.

"Funny. I'd be careful if I were you. You never know what could end up in your food while you're staying at my place."

Charlie moved forward to take his brother's bag, but Don stopped him. "No, that's okay. I can carry it."

"I know you can, but I'm offering. Besides dad told me I should just do what you would do." That said, Charlie grabbed Don's bag anyway.

Charlie moved to the door but once again his brother stopped him. "I want to go to the office before we head home."

Charlie froze in response.

"Charlie?"

"Why?"

"I want to talk to David and go through the case file."

Much to Don's surprised Charlie nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'm not saying that I like the idea, I'm saying that I understand."

"Thanks, Chuck." Charlie had grown so much over the past six years.

The younger Eppes threw his big brother a glare. "Do you still need to sign those release papers, _Donald_?"

"I've already done that."

"Okay, good. Let's go then. Oh and we should probably come up with a good explanation, because I'm not telling dad we're late because I took you to the office. Just so you know."

"Deal." Don gave his brother an affectionate smile.

1234-1234

The elevator made a 'ping' sound and the doors opened before revealing the right floor.

Don hadn't been able to leave his brother behind in the car. For a moment he considered his brother a bigger mother hen than his dad. Of course that was far from the truth. His dad would always win that battle.

Turning the corner, a man his age carrying folders crashed into him. It didn't hurt as much as he thought a collision like that would.

"Sorry agent Boyle," Don apologized. He recognized the man's face and realized that he'd been around for a long time but hadn't had the pleasure to work with him yet.

"Don't worry about it." Boyle gave Don a quick and polite smile before _walking away_. He'd been doing that a lot lately. He knew he would enjoy the game he had started and in the end Eppes would pay for ruining his life. _He simply walked away_ _and Boyle planned on doing it again_.

**The End**

A/N: So did you like it? Sequel, no sequel? =)


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